Into Oblivion
by Blue Lily96
Summary: When Jace Lightwood is cornered by a bunch of muggers, the last thing he expects is to be saved by a short red-head who gives him goose-bumps. And he especially doesn't expect the events that follow. Alternate universe. Rated T for language 'n' stuff.
1. Chapter 1

_Hello! So, this is just a little idea that popped into my head while I was eating dinner and I decided to give it a shot. I'm not really sure where it's going, but if you guys like it, I'll continue with it._

_If you don't, tough cookies :P_

**DISCLAIMER: Everything except the plot belongs to Cassandra Clare. **

**Into Oblivion**

The guys that surrounded me were ragged looking and smelled like onions. The biggest one had teeth that were rotting in his head, and the knife glinted dangerously in his great paw as he gestured violently at me.

'Give us your wallet,' he growled. My back was pressed against the bricks of the alley and everything was shadowed slightly, like the alley had sucked all light out, leaving only shadows and mould behind. The six guys were fanned out in a ragged semi-circle in front of me. One or two, including the big one, had knives whilst the others just had their fists and sneering faces. Some of them looked no older than me, and the sight of them, rugged and homeless, made something like sadness spark inside me. I didn't let it show on my face.

Slowly, I let my hand drop to my pocket, sliding my empty wallet out of my pocket. The muggers didn't know it, but I had about as much cash as them.

Tomorrow was pay day.

I calmly and silently pulled my liscense from the wallet, sliding it into my back pocket before I tossed it on the ground in front of the muggers.

'It's empty,' I told them honestly as a skinny looking guy darted forward, rifling though the wallet eagerly, his bony shoulders sagging when he realised I was telling the truth.

The big guy growled and took a threatening step forward, thrusting the knife in front of him. I regarded him coolly, even though my entire body was tensed up for the fight I knew was about to come.

'What're you playin' at, you little shit?' He grunted, sending a waft of sour smelling breath in my direction. I blinked in apparent offense.

'Now now, no need to swear, there could be children around.'

The big guy growled again and suddenly lunged forward, fists outstretched, the knife slashing wildly. I ducked swiftly to the side, so swiftly in fact that he slammed into the brick wall with a surprised shout. I didn't even have time to laugh. The other six guys were on me, fists and legs flying as they tried to land a hit.

None of them succeeded and within three minutes, at least three of them were lying groaning on the ground. The other four - big guy included - hesitated for a moment.

'Come on then,' I taunted. 'Or is it too much for you? Perhaps I should tie my hands behind my back, make it even.'

Cliched maybe, but it worked.

The remaining four charged as one and we were at it all over again. I twisted the big guy's wrist, sending his knife flying and followed it up with an elbow to the chin. He flew backwards with the force of it, stone cold, but I had already turned my attention to the others. It seemed that they would be following their unconscious mates, when a flash of bright red caught the corner of my eye and I was distracted. I faltered, and that slight hesitation was all the mugger needed. His fist rushed clumsily towards my face, I twisted, but his leather covered knuckles slammed across my temple, sending me spinning dizzily to the side. Shock surged through me. I struggled to regain my balance through the pain in my head and turned to the muggers, only to see a blur of red and blue and white attacking them fiercely.

Pain exploded through the side of my head as I tried to step forward. Damn, that guy had got me good. I staggered, reaching out a hand to steady myself against the wall just as the last mugger dropped to the ground like a sack of bricks and his attacker turned to face me.

To say I was shocked by what I saw was an understatment.

The person who stood before me was about five foot nothing, pale with rich red hair that danced in curls around her face. Yes, _her_ face. And she was possibly the most beautiful girl I had ever seen or ever will see.

And right now, that girl's face was creased with worry. At me. I swayed on my feet, wanting to say something, but my mouth felt like it was full of cotton.

'Whoa, there,' the girl said, rushing forward to grasp my elbow. Goose-bumps raced up my arm, along with a spark of heat and I heard her gasp, dropping my arm like it burned her and I knew she felt it too.

I gaped at the girl, before her raised eyebrows stunned some sense into me. I closed my mouth with a snap, along with my eyes (without the snap) and leaned against the wall.

'I'm fine,' I muttered, suddenly furious with myself. Where had smooth, sarcastic Jace Lightwood gone? Oh, that's right, he was knocked out with the rest of the muggers, leaving this stumbling fool behind.

'I don't think you are,' the girl said doubtfully, her fingers on my arm again, and then I felt them skimming across the side of my head. I could feel a kind of wetness trickling down the side of my cheek. I didin't answer her, just focused on not throwing up.

'Look, I think you have concussion.' The girl was speaking again and I forced myself to listen. 'Um, can you walk?'

'Uh...I think so,' I murmured, taking a single step away from the wall. Immediately, dizziness and nausea rushed through me and beore I knew it, my breakfast was lying on the pavement below me. I heard the girl gasp, felt hands on my back, but the world was bucking ferociously, sending me flying through the air and falling through the earth until I gave in completely to oblivion.

_Like it? Hate it? Review it? Please do._

_From,_  
><em>Blue :)<em>


	2. Chapter 2

_Ok, so here's the second chapter. It's from Clary's point of view. I'm hopefully going to update as otfen as possible - in fact, I've already got the third chapter planned so it should be up some time in the next two weeks :)_

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the mortal instruments series. That is Cassandra Clare, remember?**

Into Oblivian: Chapter 2

Clary couldn't stop staring at the blonde haired, tattooed boy lying unconscious across her lap, blood crusting along his cheek. He was beautiful, no doubt about it. Angular cheek bones and full lips, strong arms with twisting black tattoos that disappeared underneath the sleeves of his shirt.

'Clary, is he ok?'

Clary snapped herself out of her trance to look at her step-father, Luke, who had picked up her and the boy from the alley-way in his beaten up truck. Now, they were pulling up into his driveway and Luke was looking at her and the boy with concern.

'I don't know,' Clary said, placing her hand over the boy's forehead. 'He's still alive, if that's what you mean. But he still hasn't woken up.'

'I've already called Magnus, he said he'd be here ASAP. But we've got to get him inside.'

Clary nodded ok and together, they hauled the boy's dead weight inside, laying him carefully on Luke's bed. They didn't have a spare room, the couch wasn't large enough for the tall boy to lie on and Luke didn't want him in Clary's bedroom, unconscious or not.

The boy moaned as they stretched him out on the neatly made bed, a sure sign that he was still in the land of the living and his eyes flickered, exposing a sliver of gold beneath his eyelids before he was quiet again.

Seconds later, they heard the front door slam closed, anouncing Magnus Bane's arrival - Clary and Luke's eccentric family friend and healer.

'Luke?' They heard him shout.

'In here, Magnus!' Luke called and a few moments later, the tall and skinny Asian man entered the room. His hair and clothes were as out-there as usual. Leather rainbow pants, tight purple shirt and an immense amount of glittery make-up.

'I've always hated it when people say that. Just saying "here" isn't a very descriptive way of informing someone of your whereabouts,' the healer muttered in irritation. Clary smirked.

'So, what's wrong?' Magnus demanded, suddenly serious. His eyes were on the beautiful boy on the bed, his forehead creased. 'Clary?'

'I was in the city and I saw this guy - ' she gestured to the boy on the bed ' - get decked by a mugger. At least, I think that's who it was. Anyways, he looked all white and was swaying on his feet and stuff and then he hurled and passed out.'

Magnus winced as he looked at the massive bruise on the boy's temple and the line of dried blood that reached down the side of his face.

'Alright, both of you out. Time for me to work some magic.' Magnus flexed his long fingers, setting his bag of tricks on the bedside table. Clary followed Luke from the room with one last wistful glance at the unconscious boy before the door closed softly behind her.

'Do you know this kid?' Luke asked as soon as they were our of earshot of his room.

'No,' Clary said, shaking her head. She yawned. 'I just saw he was in trouble. I mean, the guy was surrounded by about seven muggers and he knocked down about four of them. He was good, really good.'

Her mind flashed back to the way the boy had defended himself, moving so swiftly and fluidly he was almost a blur.

Until he hesitated. You never hesitate in a fight, and he did. Clary shook her head, wonderng what could have possibly made the boy falter.

'Maybe when he wakes up you could try him out? See if he wants to join?' Clary asked, unable to hide the hope that crept into her voice. Luke frowned.

'I don't know, Clary. We can't just go around taking random kids off the streets - '

'Luke,' she interrupted incredulously, 'We always take in random kids off the streets. It's what we do.'

Her step-father smirked a little and wandered off towards the kitchen. 'We'll see, Clary, ok?' He called over his shoulder before disappearing. She heard the kettle being filled as she flopped onto the couch, heaving a sigh.

She would make sure the boy would be able to stay, no doubt about that.

_So, what'd you guys think? Was it ok? Did I lose anything from the first chapter? Let me know so I can tweak it if tweaking is needed :P_

_Blue._


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3 peoples! Here it is. It's a lot longer than the other two but I couldn't seem to make it any shorter :P_

**DISCLAIMER: As I have said in the past two chapters, the Mortal Instruments Series belongs to Cassandra Clare!**

**Into Oblivion Chapter 3**

I floated somewhere below consciousness, words, tinny and far away, drifted into my ears, picking up only parts of some kind of conversation.

'...Hurt...Stay with him...'

'...Clary should...sleep...'

'...Take turns...now...'

'...don't bother me again...'

And then I was sinking into the swirling darkness again, the thin threads of consciousness slipping between my grasping fingers.

Sunlight pierced the insides of my eyelids, thrusting me uncerimoniously into the waking world. I groaned reluctantly, grasping my eyes with my hand, trying to ward off consciousness but to no avail. Rolling over, I sighed into my pillow, opening my eyes slowly, allowing them to acustom themselves to the light.

I am greeted by the sight of a beautiful red-haired girl curled up catlike reading a book in an armchair beside my bed.

And then I frowned.

Why was there a beautiful red haired girl curled up catlike reading a book in an armchair in my room? In fact, why was there an _armchair_ in my room?

The red-head looked up, her stunningly green eyes lighting up with the small smile that quirked her lips and all of a sudden, I remembered the seven thugs in the alley-way, the one that managed to land a hit on my head, and I _especially_ remembered the girl wiping out three of them in as many minutes. After that though, things got fuzzy.

'You're awake,' she said, placing her book on an unfamiliar bedside table. Obviously, this wasn't my room. Not even my house.

'Really?' I drawled, lifting my head off the pillow. 'I hadn't noticed.'

The girl rolled her eyes, but I noticed the corners of her mouth twitch into a smirk that was gone almost before it was there.

For some reason, I continued talking. Don't ask me why. Sometimes my mouth just does that.

'So, you have obviously waited all night long by my bedside in order to be with me when I awoke. I'm touched, honestly, even if the gesture is somewhat cliched.'

The girl's eyebrows lifted and I was struck once again by the brightness of her eyes - emerald green, with small amber coloured flecks closer to the pupil.

'Oh, I didn't stay by your bedside all night. Luke did. Magnus said he had to incase you stopped breathing or something.'

My eyebrows creased in concern. 'Who's Luke?'

'My step-dad. You fought pretty well in that alley yesterday - '

'I did, didn't I?' I interrupted smugly, smirking at my own level of awesomeness.

' - you know,' Clary continued, as if I hadn't spoken, 'until you let that guy deck you like that. Hesitating in combat, never a good idea.' She shook her head patronisingly and I scowled.

'I got distracted,' I said defensively, moving into a sitting position and blinking as the walls tilted alarmingly off center as pain stabbed through the side of my head. The girl saw and touched my arm, concern colouring her tone.

'You ok?'

I glanced at her, giving her a wicked smile. But I didn't try to sit up again. 'Of course. I have a very high pain threshold. In fact, it's less of a threshold and more of a large and tastefully decorated foyer1.'

The girl gave an incredulous snort and leaned back in her chair.

'Where am I?' I asked her, looking around the room. It was very neat, with a few photographs on a desk, some office supplies but not much else. This was my kind of room.

'My house. I brought you here after you passed out.'

'And you are...?'

'Clary. Clary Fray.'

'Pretty name,' I murmured. 'Like the herb, clary sage2.'

Clary blushed slightly and glanced away. Her fingers fiddled with the hem of her shirt and she turned back to me, her ears still a bit pink.

'Who are you?'

I looked at the girl and wondered what I should tell her. She was beautiful, and she saved me.

So I did the only decent thing there was to do: I lied.

'Jace Wayland at your services.'

'Jace as in Jason?' She asked me.

'No,' I said, a little more firmly than neccesary, 'Jace as in Jace.'

She just shrugged, seemingly unconcered by my rude tone. 'Ok then.' But there was a stiffness to her shoulders that told me she was offended. I immediately felt sorry but couldn't help it. Names were a touchy subject for me.

We sat in silence for about five minutes when a male voice called out from somewhere in the house, 'Clary! Is he awake?' And then a stocky looking guy with thin wire glasses walked into the room, carrying a glass of water and a couple of tablets.

'Oh, so this is where you drug me and murder me,' I muse to myself, 'I knew it had to happen some time.'

Clary snorted. The man looked vaguely amused as he passed the water to me and the two round tablets.

'It's just some paracetamol,' he said. 'I figured you'd need it.'

Once I was sure that straightening up wouldn't make the world tilt, I took the paracetamol gratefully, swallowing them both with a large gulp of water. I turned back to Clary and the other man to see them both staring at me. I raised an eyebrow.

'Can I help you?'

Luke stepped forward, extending a hand. 'Luke Garroway,' he introduced himself. 'I'm Clary's step-father.'

After only a moment's hesitation, I shook Luke's hand.

'Jace Wayland,' I replied, releasing his hand.

'So Jace,' Luke began, moving to sit on the end of the bed. 'Do you want to call your parents? Tell them you're ok - '

'No!' I interrupted, too loudly. They stared at me in surprise. I cleared my throat, adopting a careless air. 'They won't mind. They've gone to D.C. for the long weekend. Something about their work.' I shrugged nonchalantly.

Luke's eyebrows raised but he said nothing, which surprised me. Instead, he stood up, dusting invisible lint from his faded jeans.

'Alright then, you can stay for lunch if you like. I'll go find you a change of clothes.'

And he left, leaving Clary and I alone. She looked at me with raised eyebrows.

'D.C., huh?' she mused.

'Yep.' I replied curtly. She humphed and adjusted in her seat so that she was sitting normally. She took a deep breath and I got the feeling she was about to tell me something important.

'Listen, Jace...' She began, then faltered, glancing at the door.

'I'm listening,' I prompted. Her green eyes were cautious as she turned back to me.

'The way you fought in the alley was - '

'Amazing? God-like? I know, you don't have to remind me.' I couldn't help it. Witty and/or sarcastic quips were kind of my thing. Clary scowled.

'Whatever. I just wondering - '

She was cut off yet again, this time by Luke re-entering the room, a pile of folded clothes in his arms. He placed the pile on the bed and upon straightening said,

'Here are some clothes for you. Come out when you're dressed and you can have something to eat.'

Clary got up, her green eyes flashing impatiently, before she and Luke filed out of the room, leaving me all on my lonesome.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, happy to note that the paracetamol had done its job quickly, leaving barely a trace of the stabbing pain of before. My mind drifted to the fact that not only have I lied about who I am, I also lied about my family. But then I reasoned, I wasn't lying at all - Mayrse and Robert were in Washington and as for my name...well...so, they were less of lies and more of creative truth-tellings. I winced at the thought of my family and pulled my phone from my pocket, sending a quick text to my sister Isabelle. She'd be stressing out right now, I knew it. Alec m brother would hopefull not be as bad at my disappearance.

**Im visiting some friends. Don't worry bout me. i'll be back in a couple of days :)  
>Jace.<strong>

Flipping the phone shut, I pulled on the grey shirt that Luke left on the bed. It was kind of tight across the shoulders and chest, but it was better than the crusty smelling, blood and dirt stained shirt I'd been wearing before. I left my own jeans on and located my shoes that had been placed neatly at the foot of the bed.

I grabbed my shirt and headed for the door, finding myself in a narrow hallway lined with photographs of what could only be described as mini Clarys, and an older woman who looked shockingly like her. Her mother probably.

I followed the sounds of low voices until I turned up in a small itchen with linoleum floors and a red kettle.

Clary and Luke were in the middle of what looked like a very heated discussion. I hung back, straining my ears to catch parts of the conversation.

'...At least give him a chance Luke!' I heard Clary exclaim. 'You don't understand - he was as good as any of us, better than a couple.'

I grinned quietly to myself. So, she _did _think I was amazing.

'Clary,' Luke said tiredly. 'I don't know. He's not one of us - '

'But he could be! If you gave him a chance!' Clary cut off, exasperated. It was then that I decided to step in.

'Are you guys part of some cult? Is that why you brought me here? Or is it just because you're all attracted to me?'

Both Clary and Luke spun around at the sound of my voice, Clary's eyes narrowing at my comment after she recovered from her shock.

'Have you always had this big an ego?' She demanded, hands on hips, green eyes widening in her apparent anger.

I grinned at her lazily. 'Yes. It's not my fault I'm so stunningly attractive. A large ego is simply part of the deal.'

Clary shook her head, glaring at the bench and Luke chuckled in amusement. He turned to me.

'How's your head?' He asked kindly and I was momentarily disarmed. The guy obviously wanted me out of the house - why was he so concerned?

'It's fine,' I answered. Clary walked over to the fridge.

'Yeah, his pain threshold is a large and tackily decorated foyer,' she snorted.

'Tastefully,' I corrected, trying not to let my eyes linger on the way her brilliant red curls brushed lightly across her faintly freckled cheek...

'Whatever you say,' she muttered, her head in the fridge. 'Anyway, what do you want to eat?'

Luke took my dirty shirt from my hands. 'I'll go put this in the wash for you,' he said and left quietly. Clary straightened, holding a can of spaghetti in her small hand.

'Spaghetti alright?' She asked, moving towards a drawer, probably in search of a can opener. I nodded and hitched myself up onto the kitchen bench, watching as she moved around the kitchen, both of us lost in out own thoughts.

Why would Clary want me to stay so badly? I couldn't understand it. I seemed to infuriate her, but she didn't seem to want me to leave. It was puzzling to say the least. My mind drifted to the way she had defeated those guys back in the alley, nothing more than a red and white blur. You wouldn't know it, looking at her, that she could be so dangerous and it intrigued me. Where had she learned to fight like that?

My thoughts were interrupted by Clary thrusting a bowl of spaghetti into my hands. She pulled herself up onto the bench beside me, slurping her food. I did the same, suddenly realising just how hungry I was.

'So,' Clary said after a few moments of silence. 'Where's you learn to fight the way you did?'

I gave her a sideays look.

'I could ask you the same thing.'

'Oh. Luke taught me. He owns a...boxing ring downtown.' I noticed the way she hesitated on "boxing ring" and it made me want to know why she was lying.

'My father taught me,' I told her honestly and instantly regretted it. Images of my real father's hand cracking around my head, of blood pooling around my ankles, of chapped and bleeding knuckles filled my head.

'Jace!' Finally, Clary's insistant tone punctuated my eardrums and I snapped myself out of my trance. 'You ok?' She asked me. I gave her my signature smirk.

'Perfectly fine.'

She rolled her eyes, scooping the rest of her spaghetti onto he fork and shovelling it quickly into her mouth. A small smear of tomato sauce was left on her chin and an inexplicable urge to wipe it away with my thumb rose up inside me. I banished it quickly, watching with an emotion similar to envy as her own hand reached up and cleared away the smudge.

Luke walked in, a small frown on his face.

'So,' he began, looking at me straight in the eyes. 'You're parents are gone for the weekend?'

'Yup,' I answered, making a popping sound on the "p".

Luke nodded. 'Alright. Well, if you like, you can stay here until they come home. I don't like the thought of you being alone after you've been injured.'

Part of me - ok, quite a large part of me - bristled at his implication that I was unable to look after myself, but the rest of me glowed with a quiet pleasure at being able to spend more time with the feisty red-head who was grinning widely beside me.

_What'd you think? Please review and give me your opinion! _

_1__and __2__ are both quotes from City of Bones. I couldn't help it. I love them too much :P_

_As of yet, I'm not really sure if they're all going to be human. I've been tossing around a couple of ideas so we'll see how it turns out :)_

_Blue._


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter four**

Clary couldn't understand it. How could someone so good looking be so goddamn annoying? It was barely the end of the day and she was already regretting her desire to have him stay. The boy was infuriating with his sarcastic remarks and superioity complex. Not to mention his ego. She glared at Jace until she was sure she would burn a hole through his chest. He stood behind the couch, her sketchbook in his hand, that superior smirk plastered on his face.

'Give. It. Back.' She growled, stepping to the left of the coffee table. Jace immediately stepped to the right.

Jace grinned and opened it. 'I just want to have a look,' he said innocently, his eyes scanning the pages. Fear gripped her stomach. What if he saw the picture she had drawn? The one of Jace standing on the edge of a building, angel wings stretching out from his back as he looked down over the city like a bad angel, pledged to protect the city from its own worst fears. She had drawn it earlier that day without even realising it. Clary remembered her own surprise as Jace's face stared back at her from her sketch book. It was one of the best drawings she had ever done.

And now, the golden-eyed boy was about to discover it.

With a furious yell, she leapt over the coffee table, jumping onto the cusions of the lounge and tackling Jace to the ground. He let out a shout of surprise, his gold eyes wide and the sketchbook flew from his hand.

Before she could move to grab it, his hands closed around her arms and he pulled her down to the ground, rolling so that he sat on top of her, his annoyingly long arms plucking the sketchbook from where it lay.

Clary thrashed, her arms and legs pounding his rib-cage. 'Get off!' She shouted furiously. Jace just laughed and even though he still had her sketchbook in hand, he didn't open it again. Instead, he looked down at her furious face from where he sat on her stomach and grinned.

'Not until you tell me where Luke went.'

Clary glared at him, finally giving up on abusing him with her fists and knees. 'I told you. He went down to the boxing-ring.'

Jace rolled his eyes. 'Alright then, tell me why you wanted me to stay so badly.'

Clary's breath huffed out of her and she couldn't stop the blush that crept over her cheeks. Instead of answering, she resumed her thrashing.

He didn't budge and she finally gave up. 'Fine. I saw the way you fought yesterday against all those muggers and I wanted Luke to try you out for the boxing tournament coming up.' She glared up at him. 'There. I told you. Now get off me and go make out with your ego or something.'

Jace grinned and stood up, handing her sketchbook back to her. Her shirt had ridden up in their wrestling, exposing a strip of tattooed flesh. Jace stiffened, his eyes fixing on her stomach and she blushed, hurriedly pulling her shirt down and standing up. He wouldn't be able to see the tattoos, but it was still embarrassing to have him stare like that.

'Don't touch my stuff,' Clary said before turning away from him.

O.o

'Come on,' Clary said upon walking into the lounge-room to see Jace sprawled across the couch lazily. 'Luke's not going to be back till late and I need food.'

Slowly, but with undeniable grace, Jace stood, his blonde hair tousled and his gold eyes dark, as if he had been sleeping. For a moment, they stared at one another in a strange silence. An image of the way Jace had stared at her before, when he had taken her sketchbook, rose up in her mind and she felt herself begin to blush.

Turning away before he could see, she reached for the phone. 'Pizza?'

Jace clasped a hand over his heart. 'It's like you can read my mind.'

O.o

'So,' Clary said, swallowing a ridiculously large bite of pizza. 'Your father, is he like a ninja or something?'

Jace snorted, pulling another slice of pizza from the box. 'Something like that,' he murmured.

Clary nodded silently and after a long silence, caught herself staring at him. Mentally shaking herself, she looked away, absently tracing circles on the cusion that rested in her lap.

'This boxing tournament you talking about. When is it?' Jace asked.

Clary swallowed, and avoided eye contact. She couldn't keep the lie. 'Listen Jace...' She began but her voice pittered out as her eyes traced his strong arms, the swirling black patterns drawing her attention. She hadn't paid much attention to them before, thinking they were simply normal tattoos but the patterns, the symbols, matched the ones that covered her own skin. Her breath caught in her throat and her eyes snapped up to his, green meeting gold.

'Your tattoos,' she breathed, hardly daring to believe it. 'Where did you get them?'

Something flashed in the boy's gold eyes, something she couldn't read. When he spoke, his voice was low and serious.

'My father gave them to me.'

Slowly, hesitantly, she raised her hand and lightly traced one of the Marks on his skin. _Sight_ it seemed to say. She opened her mouth to blurt out the truth when the door opened and she leapt away from him, looking guiltily to where Luke stood in the doorway. His sharp blue eyes flashed between the two of them, eyebrows raised and then they landed on the remaining pizza slices.

He hurried forward, taking a slice for himself. 'Clary, I was wondering if tomorrow you could head down to the ring for a while. Maia needs some help with some of the bills and stuff and I won't be able to help her.'

Clary cleared her throat, glancing once at Jace before speaking. 'Uh, sure. Would you like to come Jace?'

The blonde boy opened his mouth, prepared to answer, but Luke cut him off.

'Magnus said he should rest. The concussion was bad so you'll have to stay in tomorrow. Doctor's orders.'

Clary and Jace both scowled. She knew it was because Luke didn't want Jace to know anything, but those tattoos...Clary had a sneaking suspicion that he knew more than what he was letting on.

But the determined look in Luke's eyes warned her against arguing. Especially in front of Jace. So instead she just sighed in frustration and stood up.

'Fine,' she huffed. 'I'm going to bed. Night Luke...Night Jace.'

Both of them murmured their goodnights and as she turned away to her room, she didn't see Jace's golden eyes follow her as she left...

O.o

I was woken by the side of keys being dropped and a soft string of profanities. I lifted head from the pillow, my eyes catching a flash of red hair and green eyes.

Clary.

I watched her, unnoticed from the camp bed Luke had set up for me last night in the lounge-room. He had insisted I slept on that rather than the couch, seeing as when I lied down on it, my knees hung over the arm of it.

Thee was a soft thump and a click, announcing Clary's departure. I was immediately up and out of bed, searching for my shirt that Luke had handed back to me last night, fresh from the wash.

I was still pulling it on as I ran out the door, realising too late that I had forgotton to put shoes on. For a moment, I considered just forgetting about the shoes before I lost sight of Clary but then I thought, _this is New York_.

I raced back inside, silent, and pulled my shoes on before running back out onto the street. I strained my eyes and caught the faintest glimpse of CLary's bright red hair.

Making a snap descision, I climbed onto the roof of Clary's house, jumping from roof top to rooftop, until I saw the short girl's red-head bobbing along on the street beneath me. Grinning quietly to myself, I follow her.

Her hair was pulled back in a loose pony-tail, rebellious curls already freeing themselve from their bonds. She walked calmly along the streets, head bopping slightly to the music that played in her ears.

Clary didn't stop walking until she reached a huge old church, police tape surrounding it's perimeter. Ducking underneath the police tape she walked up to the door and stepped inside.

_Some boxing ring_, I thought.

I dropped from my roof top, landing on the otherside of the street. I ducked under the police tape, just as Clary had done, only instead of using the front door, I began to scale up the side of the old church. With the help of a few cleverly placed gargoyles and plently of foot-holes, the climb was realitively easy.

On my way up, I glanced through windows, catching glimpses of indentical bedrooms, what looked like a library and a room that was very similar to my real father's weapon's room.

But I did not see another living soul until I reached the very top of the church.

I craned my neck up over the window to look inside. What I saw was a huge room, not unlike a training room, filled with people sparring and for a moment I thought that perhaps it really was a boxing ring.

That was until I realised there wasn't an actual ring anywhere. The people sparred on mats, in pairs, all around the room. There were about fifty people there.

My eyes caught sight of brilliant red hair and I saw Clary talking to a boy with brown hair and glasses. She was laughing by the looks of it, joking around with him and I felt an inexplicable stab of jealousy at the sight of it. I pushed the feeling roughly aside. _You just met her, you stalker_, I thought to myself.

Of course, this kind of thinking did not stop me from inching the window open and stepping onto one of the thick oak beams that criss-crossed the room's ceiling.

I moved along the beam until I was directly above her and her friend. Sounds of her laughter and his drifted up towards me. I saw her take a weak swipe at his head which he ducked easily.

'You dork,' I heard her exclaim.

I swung my legs over the edge of the beam, took a deep breath, and dropped down from my perch, landing in a silent crouch behind her. I heard a couple of gasps, and a shout and the brown haired kid's eyes widened, his mouth dropping open.

I ignored all of this though, all my attention on the red-head in front of me who was waving her hand in front of her friend's face, her head began to turn.

'Clary,' I said, my voice unintentionally cold, 'Mind telling me why you're flirting with a _vampire_?'

_Haha! A cliff-hanger! I know these past two chapters have been very much like fillers but I promise that things will start to pick up in the next couple of chapters. Cross my heart, hope to die._

_Please please please review! _

**DISCLAIMER: As I am neither American nor a red-head, I could not possibly be Cassandra Clare, now could I? TMI belongs to her.**

_Blue._


	5. Chapter 5

_My, my, aren't you all just a couple of lucky ducklings? Two updates in one weekend. Honestly, it's because I've been bedridden these past few days with the flu. I've been quarrantined and so I decided to write this new chapter, considering I left you all with a cliff-hanger yesterday._

_Anyway, enjoy and review! Because it makes me happy._

Chapter 5

Everything had turned suddenly silent, Simon's eyes were like dark brown disks in his head, his mouth dropped open.

Clary waved a hand in front of his face, confusion making her frown.

And then a cold voice, a voice that should not have been so incredibly familiar, spoke from right behind her.

'Clary, mind telling me why you're flirting with a _vampire_?'

Clary froze, her mind going into shock and she spun around, her face smacking into Jace's chest. She stumbled back and his hands caught her, steadied her, before he let her go just as quickly. Goose-bumps rose up along her arms where his hands had been but she shook the feeling away as surprise took her over again, making her mouth hang open.

'_Jace_?' She exclaimed, her voice too loud in the silent training room. He didn't say anything, just stared at her with stony gold eyes.

'Clary - who is this?' Simon demanded. Clary ignored him.

'What the _hell_ are you doing here? In fact, how did you get here?'

Jace smirked. 'Well, after your loud exit this morning, I followed you here. As for how I got here - and by "here" I presume you mean this room - I climbed up the side of the building.'

'You what?' Clary closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, taking a few deep breaths. 'You know what?' She said upon opening her eyes. 'I don't even want to know. Luke is gonna be so pissed. Why couldn't you just stay home?'

"Following the rules isn't really my thing, Clary,' He said, smirk returning. She wanted to slap the stupid smirk off his face.

"Clary!' Simon exclaimed. 'Who is this guy?'

Finally, Clary turned around. 'This is Jace. The guy I was telling you about.'

'The one who got knocked out by the muggers? Who was staying at your place?'

Clary and Jace snorted, for different reasons. 'No,' Clary said sarcastically, 'The _other_ strange kid I brought over to my house.' She gave him a look that said, _are you _thick _or something_?

'Strange?' Jace repeated in apparent offense. And then he smirked. 'Oh, you must be refering to my unearthly good-looks.'

Clary rolled her eyes. 'If you say so.'

She turned serious, giving Jace her full attention again. Everbody else was silent.

'Why did you call Simon a vampire?' She asked him, although she already knew. The Marks on his arms were proof enough. Jace's gaze didn't move from hers.

'Because that is what he is.' Jace raised his hand; pointed out random people in the audience without moving his gaze from Clary's.

'Ifrit,' He said, like a child proudly pointing to a horse and getting it right. Only coming from Jace's mouth, it sounded condescending, like everyone else was stupid and he felt compelled to point out what was right in front of them. His pointing finger moved to another. 'Werewolf.' He said.

And then his hand moved slowly back to Clary, his gold eyes blazing in his head and he said,

'Human.'

Clary's breath caught in her throat. She knew it. She _knew _it! If it weren't for the fact that Jace was standing right in front of her, she would have done her own little happy-dance. As it was, she could not help the huge grin that spread itself across her face. This was obviously not what Jace was expecting because for the first time since she saw him get decked by that thug, he faltered.

The training room was silent, waiting for her to speak. She took a step forward, placed a hand on his arm and said in a low voice, 'Alright. Come with me.'

Fifty one pairs of eyes follwed their departure, and it wasn't until the door slammed closed behind them that Simon straightened, raised his hands above his head and shouted,

'Alright! Everybody, back to training!'

After all, stranger things had happened.

In the hall way, Clary whirled around to face Jace. He was smirking at her - again - and for a moment, her victory was replaced by irritation. She quickly pushed it aside. There was nothing better than being right.

'You said your father gave you the binding Marks,' she began and caught the strange expression that flashed through his eyes. It was gone in an instant. She continued as if she hadn't noticed anything. 'Did he have the Sight as well?'

'What is this place?' Jace said instead of answering. Clary growled in annoyance.

'How long have you been a Protector?' She asked instead.

'How long have you?'

'Why are you so annoying?'

'Why are you so short?'

Clary's teeth clamped shut, anger and indignation flared inside her and before she knew it, her hand was sailing through the air, aimed for Jace's face.

Just centimetres before her palm made contact with his cheek, his own hand whipped up and closed around her wrist. He didn't let go.

'Temper, temper,' he smirked.

Clary ignored the little shots of electricity that prickled around her wrist everywhere that his skin touched and wrenched her arm from his grasp.

She just glared at him, all plans of what she had been going to ask him when they stepped out of the training room flew from her head, swamped by her prickling anger and annoyance.

'You are a complete and utter di - '

'Tsk, tsk, no swearing in church*.'

Clary scowled. 'It's not a church. If it were a church, how would Simon be able to be here?'

'I'm guessing Simon is the blood-sucker.'

Clary glared at him. 'You catch on quick, Blondie.'

'That doesn't explain why the vampire is out and about in the middle of the day though, does it?'

Clary opened her mouth, about to deliver a cutting retort when she realised two things: One, she didn't have a cutting retort because Jace was right, and two, that they were no longer alone.

'I thought I would find you here.' Came a tired voice from behind them. Clary knew it immediately and when she turned to see Luke she deflated, like someone had stabbed her with a pin.

'He's a Protector, Luke. He followed me here.'

'I'm not actually,' Jace said suddenly. When Clary and Luke stared at him he added, 'A Protector, I mean.'

Clary blinked in surprise and when she turned to look at Luke, his expression mirrored hers. How could he not be though? Clary demanded silently. His Marks were proof of it. And he had the Sight. And he fought like one of them. How could he not be?

'Do you know what a Protector is?' Luke asked slowly, his blue eyes confused. Clary realised that he had had the same suspicions as her, only he was better at hiding it.

'Nope.' Jace said pleasantly. 'I have the Sight. I have amazing combat skills. But I'm not a Protector.'

Something dark flittered across his face as he said that, something that made Clary want to find out even more about him, despite his ego and irritating habits.

'Oh,' Luke said, releasing his breath out loudly through his lips, blowing out his cheeks in the process. Then he straightened. He was all business now.

'Ok,' he said. 'You and Clary both claim that you're skills are above average. Before I explain anything, I want to see it for myself.' This surprised Clary. Her step-father was usually more of a questions first kind of guy. There was no time to protest. Luke herded the two teenagers back into the training room. It immediately fell silent.

'Everybody, off to the sides!' Luke shouted and everybody complied, lining themselves up along the room's walls. They watched Luke expectantly.

Luke ushered Jace and Clary to the center of the room. Jace's face was blank, but Clary could tell he was confused. Tension radiated from him and she got the impression that this was a boy who did not like to not know what was going on.

'This is Jace,' Luke announced, gesturing toward the gold-eyed boy. 'He is going to demonstrate his combat skills to us today.'

A couple of people grinned. They knew what was coming. So did Clary.

'He will, as is tradition, verse Clary in hand-to-hand combat.'

Everybody grinned this time, a couple of poeple shouted and whistled. Jace spluttered, his eyes wide with surprise.

'I'll be _what_?' He demanded.

'You will verse Clary in hand-to-hand combat,' Luke repeated slowly and without another word, moved to stand beside Simon, his arms crossed, a smile playing on his lips.

Clary took a few steps back and crouched into a defensive position, facing Jace off with a confidence she wasn't sure she was feeling. Everybody else in the room was confident in her ability to defeat jace.

But they hadn't _seen _him.

Jace, it seemed, had regained his composure and faced Clary off with a cool stare.

'You know,' he said, 'Usually I wouldn't hit a girl. But I'm willing to make an exception.'

Clary smirked. 'Funny,' she replied blithely, 'I was thinking the exact same thing.'

A muscle in Jace's cheek twitched, he seemed to be fighting a smile. Whatever response he had been about to make was cut short by Luke shouting 'Begin!'

Clary ran at him, fast enough that he could only block her swift approach by ducking to the side, barely making it out of the way before she pulled back and darted behind him, her foot connecting with his side. He let an oof of surprise but before she could land another hit, he leapt into the air, over her, and landed in a shallow crouch, an approving smile on his face.

'Not bad, Little One,' he said patronisingly before charging her with the same swiftness he had exhibited yesterday, so fast he was almost a golden blur to her eyes. She didn't have time to draw breath before his hard body slammed into her. She stumbled backwards, arms flailing. His fist found her stomach, but it didn't hurt, not like it should have.

He didn't want to hurt her.

The thought had barely taken shape before she was fighting back, blocking his blows, driving him back towards the center of the room. But it was incredibly hard. The boy was good. Better than her, she suspected. Or perhaps they were evenly matched.

His elbow flew towards her head, she blocked it with her forearm, her foot drove towards his knee, and he stopped it with his ankle. Jace twisted, catching her hand in his and pulled it over his shoulder so that she flew through the air.

Clary watched as the ground hurtled towards her and she twisted her legs, angling her body so that when she hit the ground, it was feet first. Clary dropped to a crouch, sweeping her extended leg beneath his. Even though his back was was turned to her, he leapt into the air, dropping back down again as she straightened with barely a blink.

They were at it again.

They fought for what seemed like ages -though it was probably no more than ten minutes - neither getting the upper-hand. Clary's hair had completely escaped from its pony-tail, sweeping around her face, sweat making it stick to her neck.

Clary lunged forward, ready to deliver a punch when Jace leapt once again into the air, backflipping over the top of her. Clary spun around and saw her chance as his feet slammed into the ground. In that brief moment where his feet were just milimeters from being steady, she slammed into him, hard enough fo him to stumble. She lashed out, not daring to hope that perhaps she may still beat him, and punched him in his rick-hard chest, followed quickly by a sharp kick to the shins, unbalancing him even more.

Before he could respond, Clary leapt on him, tackling him to the ground just as she had done yesterday when he had stolen her sketch-book, and straddled him.

She pinned him to the ground, her hands holding his arms to the floor, her chest heaving with exertion in time with his. And she thought, for a moment, that he was going to shove her off him, that he was going to roll over and sit on her and take the victory for himself and knew, just by looking at his face, that he could but he wasn't going to.

She realised she was staring at him, and he was staring at her, gold eyes holding her green ones captive, pulling her into their golden depths until she was sure she would never be able to look away again -

'Ah, nothing like a bit of sexual tension between teenagers.'

The familiar, drawling voice snapped both Jace and Clary out of there trance and she shoved herself off him, scrambling to her feet. A couple of people laughed. Everyone else was clapping at her victory and she felt herself grin, even as she saw who it was who had spoken.

Magnus Bane, as glittery as ever, had entered the room, grining wildly. His human boyfriend, Alec, followed closely behind, but he did not seem to share his boyfriend's humour.

Instead, his expression was one of shock, mouth hanging open, eyes wide. Clary felt Jace stand up beside her, felt him stiffen when he saw the new arrivals and then Alec shouted,

_'Jace?'_

Clary turned to Jace in confusion. How did he know Alec Lightwood? Jace opened his mouth, prepared to answer, but was interrupted by Alec darting suddenly forward. He leapt at Jace, his face contorted furiously and he grabbed the other boy's collar with his fists, shaking him in his fury.

'Jace Lightwood, where the bloody hell have you been?'

Wait, Lightwood? But, Jace had said his name was Wayland...

The boy in question wrenched himself way from Alec, and even through her confusion, Clary thought he looked like a caged lion, beautiful but trapped. She mentally slapped herself for letting her mind wander llike that.

'Alec - ' Jace began, but Alec, it seemed, did not want to be interrupted in the middle of his tirade and carried on as if he hadn't spoken.

'We have had no idea where you were!' He wasn't shouting anymore, his voice was calm, but his blue eyes were stormy. Clary wondered how he could be so contained. 'You've been missing for two days Jace. Izzy got a text saying you were staying with friends and I find you here, fighting with _her_.'

Both boys turned to look at her, Alec looked apologetic for a moment, as if sensing that the way he had reffered to Clary was not exactly polite.

'Look, Alec, I came into some trouble. Clary helped me - right Clary?'

Jace spoke to her, but she could only stare at him.

He lied, was all she could think.

'You said your name was Wayland,' she said quietly. A look of pain flashed momentarily across Jace's face, gone so quickly she wasn't sure if she had imagined it.

'Clary - ' he began but she turned away, not sure why she was so upset. It's not like she actually knew him, who cares if he lied? It was just a name.

A false name.

A lie.

'I have to go,' she murmured and walked out the door, leaving Jace staring after her, like he was watching the only thing keeping him grounded walk away.

She didn't see it though, because she was already gone.

_You like? Any opinions and/or suggestions are welcome :) I promise that things will start to be explained in the next chapter._

**DISCLAIMER: Guess what? In the space of two days, I have still not gained the rights of the Mortal Instrument Series, they still belong to Cassandra Clare. I know I'm ninja, but I'm not **_**that **_**ninja.**

_*: yet another quote from CoB. That one always makes me laugh._

_Blue :)_


	6. Chapter 6

_New chapter peeps. I know I'm wonderful, you don't have to remind me :P Actually, please do. In the form of reviews!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six<strong>

I watched Clary as she left the room, back ram-rod straight, followed quickly by the vampire, who looked worried. A hollow feeling had taken up residence in my stomach, replacing the strange tingly warmth I had felt when sparring with Clary. I couldn't forget the way her green eyes had drilled into mine, the way I hadn't been able to look away...

I turned my attention back to the people still inside the training room. Alec, stony faced, his eyes, which so often changed with his mood, were the colour of a stormy sea. Luke's face was a picture of suprise, the sparkly warlock that had entered with Alec was smirking, looking more than amused while the rest of the audience was kept in rapt silence, just watching the drama unfold like their very own soap opera.

I wished they would all just go away.

Luke met my gaze from across the room and though I had thought my face was suitably blank, he nodded once and shouted,

'Trainings over! Everybody out!'

They all gave a disappointed groan but reluctantly, and with much murmured protest, shuffled out of the training room, leaving only Luke, Alec, and the sparkly warlock.

And I meant that literally. The warlock was covered from head to foot in glitter, from his spiked black hair that had so much gel it looked capable of inflicting some serious damage, to his bright pink boots. If I were to choose one word to describe his clothes that wasn't "sparkly", it would definitely have to be "_**LOUD**_".

It hurt to look at him.

'Who the hell are you?' I demanded of the warlock. He smirked.

'Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn .' He gave a small bow, and when he straightened I noticed that his pupils were slit, like a cat's.

Alec glared at the warlock then turned his attention back to me. 'What are you doing here, Jace?'

I raised an indeifferent eye-brow. 'I could ask you the same question.'

Alec faltered, and for a moment, he looked positively horrified. His gaze flickered almost incoluntarily towards Magnus, who ginned again and gave a glittery wink. Alec flushed red.

Hmm...

'What's a Protector?' I asked him after watching him splutter uselessly for a few moments. Alec paled and shook his head, which confused me. 'Don't you know?' I demanded.

Luke suddenly stepped forward, calm, composed, the opposite of Alec.

'I think, Jace, that maybe you should give Alec a couple of hours. You being here has surprised all of us.'

Anger at their secrecy bloomed in my chest and I shouted, 'Why? He's my brother! Why are you keeping secrets from me?'

If possible, Alec paled even more but I didn't want to see it. Furious, I marched out of the training room.

Just as the door slammed shut behind me I heard a voice, I'm fairly sure it was Luke, shout,

'Clary's probably in the greenhouse!'

That stoped me in my tracks and even through my frustration and anger, a small smirk emerged. Usually fathers, step or no, didn't like it when I talked to their daughters.

O.o

I wandered through the church - or not-church, since Clary claimed that it wasn't a church at all - for about ten minutes before I finally admitted to myself that I was completely and hopelessly lost. I could have sworn I had passed that crack in the wall three times now.

The not-church was huge, with so many twisting hallways it made my head hurt. It reminded me of those period movies Isabelle would make me watch with her, with purple Victorian wallpaper and old-fashioned gas lamps that hung from the walls at regular intervals.

Eventually, after not seeing another living soul, I came across a blue presian cat curled up in front of a door. I had always like cats.

'Hey Cat,' I murmured, crouching down in front of it. The cat raised its head, regarding me coolly, probably trying to judge whether or not I was worth its time. I scratched it under the chin and it purred, tail flicking lazily from side to side.

'Have you seen Clary?' I asked the cat, hoping that nobody would wander along to find me talking to a cat. Slowly, the cat stood up, giving me the superior glance that all cats seemed to share, before slinking off down the hall. I shrugged quietly to myself. If you haven't got a yellow brick road, follow the blue persian cat.

I winced. Did I seriously just make a Wizard of Oz reference?

The cat le me through a countless number of hallways, past closed doors and open windows, until he stopped at the foot of a steel staircase.

'Is she up there?' I asked it. The cat's tail flicked and it yawned before melting back down the hallway.

I made my way up the stairs, which opened up into a huge floral smelling room. Obviously, the green house.

Threading my way around trees and headges,vines and flowers, watering cans and bags of soil, I finally caught a glimpse of brilliant red. So the cat was right.

She was sitting on a stone bench in front of a pond filled with almost black water, littered with fallen leaves. She was scowling at her reflection in the water, bright curls falling around her face. Silently, I sat beside her and felt her tense in surprise.

She didn't look at me though, and we sat in silence, lost in our own thoughts. Finally, still without looking up from the pond, she said,

'I'm sorry - for before. I shouldn't have run out like that. It was - um...rude.'

I gave chuckle and shrugged. Seemed like she was nearly as bad as handing out apologies as me. Except for the fact that I didn't really apologise. Ever. 'Doesn't matter.'

Clary gave a sigh, picking idly at a loose thread in her shirt. 'Why'd you say your name was Wayland?'

I gave a tight smile that she didn't see. Her attention seemed to be completely on the thread in her shirt. I looked at her and saw the red flush that crept across her cheeks and I realised she was emabarrassed. The though made my mouth twitch.

'Because that's what it is.'

She spun to look at me, surprise plain on her face. I wasn't sure if it was because of my answer or because she caught me staring at her.

'But Alec - '

'Wayland is my real name. I took the name Lightwood when they adopted me.' I say it very matter-of-factly and Clary deflated visibly, the blush creeping further across her face and down her neck.

'Oh,' she croaked. I felt bad for a moment, at making her so uncomfortable.

'So, if this isn't a church, what is it?'

Clary looked at me, obviously relieved at the change of subject. 'We call it the Institute. It doubles as a safety house for Downworlders and kids with the Sight who think they're going crazy 'cause they can see Faeries and vampires, and a club for Luke's pack.'

'Pack?'

Clary nodded. 'He's the head of the Institute as well as the leader of the largest werewolf clan in New York.'** (A/N I wasn't sure if the largest clan thing is accurate, but let's just pretend...)**

Luke was a werewolf? Huh. I wondered why I hadn't noticed before.

'What's a Protector then?'

'A Protector is a person like me. A warrior, so to speak.' She chuckled softly at herself. 'We answer to the Clave, who give us the Marks, depending on what kind of Protector we're going to be. All Protector's are humans who have the Sight. Most of us are born into families of Protectors, but you get some who are brought in off the street. They have to go through rigorous training though, so they can withstand the power of the Marks without going nuts.'

Clary pulled the sleeves of her shirt up, exposing the lily-white underside of her arms. And the tattoos that covered them.

'See these? They bind me to the safety of others. I have been trained to fight, but only in the defense of others. I don't attack people for no reason - it's against my nature. You get different kinds of Protectors, some like me, others who are meant to hunt and kill.' Her face twisted, and I saw that the thought disgusted her.

I thought about it, sinking in all the information. 'So how come I've never heard about it?'

'Some families, even if they have the Marks, don't join with the Clave. They leave completely.'

'You think that's what the Lightwoods did?'

Clary shrugged. 'I don't know. I've only ever met Alec. And even then, it's only because he hoo - '

She broke off suddenly and started again. 'Only because he and I became friend's and I showed him this place. And he's never really explained it.'

I wondered what it was she was she had been going to say instead. I leaned back on the bench, looking up through the transparent glass roof to the sapphire blue sky above.

'So, you guys are kind of like the X-Men, then?'

I wasn't a nerd, but Wolverine was pretty bad-ass. I had to give credit where credit was due.

Clary laughed, and nodded. 'Yeah. You could say that Luke was Professor X, only not bald, not in a wheel-chair, and a werewolf.'

I grinned, enjoying the joking around after so much goddamn tension. 'And who would you be? Rogue? She had red hair.'

I know she didn't in the movies, but it's the comics that count. And yes, I have read the comics. I may have watched one or two episodes of the cartoons as well. That's what happens when your nine-year old brother is a nerd.

Clary blushed again, but countered with, 'And you? Are you a Wolverine or a Cyclops? Or perhaps your the ice-dude. His name's Bobby, isn't it? He has blonde hair.'

_And he gets Rogue._

I didn't say it, even if I did love to see her blush.

Woah, where'd that come from?

Mentally shaking myself, I opened my mouth to utter some witty quip when I was interrupted by a loud clanging bell that sounded through the entire Institute.

'What's that?'

Clary grinned, hopping to her feet and starting back through the Greenhouse.

'The front door-bell,' she answered.

O.o

The elevator that I followed Clary to was old fashioned and rickety, clunking to a stop when we reached the bottom. Clary opened the door and stepped out into what I supposed would be called an entry hall. It had marble floors and huge pillars, a set of ornately carved set at the end.

Clary reached for the door-handle and before opening it, sent me a wicked grin. 'This is how normal people enter a house,' she informed me. I didn't have time for a reply, as she had already pulled the door open. We both stared at the empty space before us. Nobody was there.

That's what I thought until I heard a soft moan at my feet. Looking down, I saw a small bundle of rags which, after a moments confusion, I realized to be a living person. At least, I thought it was living.

Whoever it was, their face and body was badly abused, blood and bruises covering every inch of skin visible to the eyes. Their eyes were swollen closed, lips cracked and bleeding. Blood matted in their hair, so much so I couldn't even tell what colour their hair really was. The person's clothes hung off them in tattered rags, barely covering anything.

A sudden scream that would haunt me for days to come pierced my ears and Clary dropped to the ground, hands grabbing the moaning figure.

_'Mum!' _she shrieked.

My blood ran cold.

* * *

><p><em>Haha, another cliffie. But, as promised, I gave answers to some questions. Please review! I love it when you do! It gives me a warm, happy feeling inside :P<em>

_Actually, who do you think Jace would be if he were to morph into one of the X-Men? Leave your answers in your reviews, I reckon it'd be cool to see what you guys reckon._

_So, that's two things: remind me how wonderful I am and which X-Man Jace would be :P_

_(I'm starting to think that writing about Jace is making my ego grow...)_

_Anyways,_

_Blue._


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The scream that tore itself roughly from Clary's throat was lost in the roaring of her ears. She shoved past Jace, who stood stunned, and slammed to the ground beside her mother, ignoring the burst of pain that exploded in her knees. Even through the cut and bruised skin, and wasted body, Clary would know her mother anywhere.

She pulled her mother closer to her, checking frantically for a pulse. After a single, heart stopping moment, she felt it flutter beneath her two fingers. Dimly, she became aware of Jace leaping _over_ them and tearing down the institute stairs, golden head whipping from side to side as he searched for whoever had dropped Jocelyn on the steps.

'Mum,' Clary whispered, holding Jocelyn close against her, trying to bring her back to consciousness.

Suddenly she felt strange hands on her shoulder and she lashed out blindly, filled with a need to keep her wounded mother safe. She froze when she felt his hot lips against her ear, speaking urgently.

'Clary! For god's sake it's just me!'

Clary tore her eyes away from her mother's weak form and was suddenly trapped by his gold ones.

'Help us,' she croaked, Jocelyn's blood leaking onto her throat. Jace nodded once, mouth set in a firm, white line and he brushed her gently to the side, swinging Jocelyn easily into his arms.

Clary leapt to her feet rushing in front of Jace to the elevator. She wrenched the door open - thank the Angel, nobody had decided to use it. They piled inside, both Clary and Jace cussing under their breaths as the elevator moved agonizingly slow.

Finally, it clanged to a stop. Once again, Clary rushed out, forcing her frightened and confused brain into order.

Jace looked at her, chewing on his lip, holding her mother so gently against his chest and it seemed so much in contrast to the cold smirk that usually took up residence on his face, that if she weren't so incredibly panicked, she would have melted.

'Right,' she said, backing further down the hall. 'Take my mum to the infirmary. I'll be back with Magnus and Luke.'

She began to turn but was interrupted by Jace's shout.

'Clary! I dont know where the hell the goddamn infirmary is!'

She paused and turned around, blushing furiously. 'Get back into the elevator, take it to the second floor. The infirmary is the first door on your left.'

Jace nodded once, and then he and her mother disappeared back inside the elevator. Clary didn't waste a second. She was already tearing back down the halls, searching desperately for Luke.

A certain blue persian cat, lounging on a window sill caught her attention.

'Church,' she breathed in relief. 'Where's Luke?'

The cat's tail twitched as he looked up to glare at Clary, not impressed at having his nap interrupted.

'For god's sake!' She yelled furiously and took off again -

- only to slam into someone very cold and very hard.

'Simon!' She yelled, steadying herself and rubbing her forehead. He looked at her with concern, dark brown eyes widening when he saw the dried blood on her shirt. She saw his fangs slide painfully into view, puncturing his own lips.

'Clary - '

'Where's Luke?' She demanded, ignoring the sight of her vampire friend's fangs. 'Better yet, where's Magnus?'

Simon opened his mouth to answer, expression pained, but was cut short by the warlock himself striding quickly down the hall, Luke not far behind him.

'What's all this then?' Magnus asked, quirking an eye brow.

'My mum - she was on the doorstep - Jace is in the infirmary with her.' SHe took a breath, her words coming out muddled and breathless. Magnus raised a slim finger.

'Your mother is in the infirmary?'

She nodded mutely.

'Right, that's where we start. Come on,' and with a glittery swish, he set off back down the hall, Clary, Luke and Simon following close on his heels.

O_o

I was just about to scream with impatience when Magnus, Clary, Luke _and_ the vampire burst through the infirmary door. They all rushed to the bed, where Clary's mother lay broken and bloody, still completely unconscious. They all ignored me, but I didn't mind.

Luke looked like he was about to be sick, his face pale and twisted as his hands hovered over the beaten woman's face and I remembered, STEP FATHER. This woman was his wife. He was her husband. They loved each other. It was almost uncomfortable to watch as his face contorted, like he was trying not to cry out.

I looked behind me to see the vampire hovering near the door, kncukles white (sorry, whit_er_) nostrils flared, his fangs fully extended.

I reacted immediately, slamming my forearm into his throat and shoving him out the door. It slammed shut behind us, cutting us off from the rest of them. The vampire growled and shoved me off him with enough strangth to make me stumble backwards.

'Get off me, you dick,' he growled.

I let my mask slide easily into place, regarding him with cool indifference.

'I'm the only thing between you going in there and eating them, so shut the fuck up, you goddamned blood-sucker.'

The vampire blinked - what did Clary say his name was? Simone? No, that was a girl's name.

Fitting though.

SImon, that was it.

'That's my best-friend's mum in there,' he said quietly, catching me momentarily off guard. I didn't let it show, moving instead to stand more firmly in front of the door.

'Yes,' I replied snarkily. 'And you were just about to tear her throat out. I don't even fucking know you, but I want you to get out of here and drink some goddamned blood before I drive a stake through your heart.'

My voice comes out cold, threatening and his nostrils flare again. My mind flashes to Clary, a sudden image of Simon leaning over her broken body, her blood covering his mouth and a fury so hot it burned rose inside me.

I wanted to roar and scream at him, tell him to get the hell out of there before he hurt her, but I couldn't. Instead, I hissed,

'You can talk to her later. Get the hell out of here.'

Wit his fangs still protruding, the vampire ran down the hall, so fast he was almost a blur and it was all I could do to hope he didn't come across anyone else. I leaned back with a sigh against the wood of the door, trying to dispell the horrible images of Clary that had popped up in my head. God, if something happened to her...

I silently face-palmed. What the bloody hell was wrong with me? I barely know the girl and I was aready signing up to be her goddamned body guard.

I became aware of footsteps outside the door and I had barely enough to time to fling myuself away before it flung open. Clary stumbled out, followed by Luke. They both looked red-eyed and exhausted.

I saw blue sparks flicker in the doorway and I wondered wat the warlock was doing. Turns out, I didn't have to ask.

'He's healing her,' Clary said, green eyes dull. There was a silent_ I hope _tacked onto the end of the sentence that seemed to hang in the air until Luke cleared his throat and said, 'I'd better go talk to the others. They'll want to know what's going on.'

Clary muttered something under her breath. Luke was gone and I frowned.

'What?'

She looked up at me, face blank.

'I said, _we_ don't even know what's going on.'

I glance at the now closed door, where Magnus and Clary's mother were.

'Where was she?' He asked. Clary shook her head in confusion and started walking down the hall.

'She was supposed to be at an artists convention or something. She'd only been gone for three days. And then she turns up here - '

Clary broke off, her teeth worrying her bottom lip again. 'I just don't understand.'

I felt uncomfortable, I didnt want her to start crying because I wouldn't know what to do. I wasn't really good with emotions - my own or anyone elses, and especially not those of the pretty red-headed girl I barely knew.

She took a deep breath and wiped her hands across her eyes. I knew suddenly that she wasn't going to cry. Not in front of me at least.

'I hope she's ok,' she murmured.

Suddenly, I had an idea and stopped. She took a few steps without realising, then turned when she saw I was no longer next to her.

'Why don't I take you somehwere,' i said slowly. 'You look hungry, and I know a great place.'

I could practically see her weighing the options in her head._ Stay here and mope or go off with some hunky god I barely know?_

Yep, that was definitely what she was thinking. She seemed like the kind of girl who would use 'hunky'.

Finally, she nodded. 'Ok,' she murmured and started walking again, but she didn't smile. I felt something shoot through my chest at the tense and worried look on her face.

'Come on then,' I said, making my voice uncharatiscally soft. She looked up with surprise, a light blush colouring her cheeks.

God, I hoped she like pancakes.

O_o

Jace took her through the streets of New York until they reached a rundown looking brick building. It had no windows and looked more like a redbrick prison than a cafe. Taki's was written in a neon sign, flickering just above the entryway.

Guarding the door stood an ifrit, hat pulled over his eyes, trench coat pulled around his thick, trunklike body. So it was a downworlder haunt. She wondered why she had never heard of it before. As they passed him, Clary wondered if he knew Clive, the ifrit who lived at the Institute.

Inside, Clary felt like Alice stepping through the looking glass. The interior of the cafe was gorgeous, nice lookng booths, tiled floor, low music in the background. It was so different to the outside she almost laughed.

Jace slid into one of the booths. She sat in the seat opposite him, busying herself with the menu. After a moments surprise at seeing things like raw cow's meat and blood thickshakes, she realised human food was on the back.

She felt eyes on her and looked up, only to see Jace's head buried in the menu. Smirking, she took the time to watch him. He truly was the most attratcive boy she'd ever seen, with his bold gold hair and mesmerising gold eyes. She felt her fingers itch to draw him again, and before she knew it, she had slid a pen from her pocket and was sketching on a napkin.

He didn't look up from the menu as he suddenly spoke.

'Why are you staring at me?' He asked. 'Is there something on my face?'

'You mean aside from a nose, mouth, eyes...?' she asked, continuing her sketching without even really realising it. He still didn't look up from the menu, but the corners of his mouth twitched.

They were interrupted by a girl with long blonde hair and eyes that were entirely blue – no pupil or white or anything.

'What can I get you today?' She asked them, offering Jace a suggestive smirk, which Jace returned with his own cocky smirk. Clary raised her eyebrows in amusement. To each their own, she supposed. Jace prattled off an order and the waitress turned Clary, waiting.

'Uh, I'll get the coconut pancakes and a, um, blueberry smoothie thanks.'

The waitress – Kaelie, Clay finally noticed her namebadge – nodded and wobbled off in her high-heels to disappear behind the counter again.

'What are you drawing?' Jace asked, his hand moving to capture the napkin in his long fingers. Clary lunged for the napkin but he had already leaned back in his seat, inspecting the drawing with a smirk. Clary barely stopped herself from leaping over the table and snatching it from him, but she didn't want to make a scene.

When he saw what was on the napkin, she saw his smirk widen and he glanced at her. 'I knew it. You love me, don't you? Or maybe, you're just a stalker and you want me to join your freaky cult and make freaky cult babies.'

Clary rolled her eyes and moved to snatch the napkin from his fingers. Jace jerked his hand back, the smirk widening even more, and he folded the napkin into his pocket.

Clary huffed back in defeat, crossing her arms across her chest. 'First of all, if I were a stalker, I wouldn't be sitting here with you now, I would be watching you from distance, chopping off bits of your hair and memorising your timetable. Second of all, I can't believe you just started talking about children. I just met you Jace, I think maybe you're rushing into things.'

Jace rolled his eyes but Clary still couldn't smile. Everytime she blinked, the picture of her mother, broken and bloody, rose in her mind.

'Oh, you know you want a piece of this,' Jace said arrogantly, gesturing at himself. Clary didn't have time to reply, their food had arrived and she could practically feel her eyeballs bugging out of her head. There was a pile of pancakes the same size of a fryingpan, dripping with syrup and blue berries, with a dollop of vanilla ice-cream on top.

Her stomach rumbled in antcipation. She had skipped breakfast that morning, and hadn't had anything to eat all day.

Slowly, almost reverently, she took a bite – and resolved that she could die happy, right there. The pancakes were soft and fluffy, melting in her mouth as she chewed, the maple syrup blending beautifully with the cocnut.

A soft sound made her look up. Jace was smirking at her, an eyebrow raised questioningly.

'Holy Jesus, Mother of God, this is good.'

Jace laughed outright at that, and she realised with a shock that it was the first time she had actually heard him laugh properly. For a moment, she let the sound wash through her ears, a rich, loud sound, smooth, filled with gold and warmth.

And then she kicked herself for being so stupid.

He was just a boy. Just a boy she had met only yesterday.

He was just a boy. Drop-dead gorgeous, yes.

But just a boy.

Clary sighed into her pancakes as he dug into his chips, a faint smirk on his lips. She figured if she said it enough, she could pretend to believe it.

* * *

><p><em>Ok, so I know the ending is a bit iffy but I wanted to end this chapter because it's been driving me <em>nuts!_ I'm sorry for the late update by the way, life just got in the way._

_Oh god, I sounded like some corny movie. Forgive me for my momentary lapse in awesomeness._

_Anyway! Read and review! Give me any suggestions or opinions you guys have! please?_

**DISCLAIMER: Cassandra Clare still owns the Mortal Instruments series. Shocking, isn't it...?**

_From,_

_Blue._


	8. Chapter 8

_Hey everyone. So I know I've been slack and haven't updated in forever and I'm sorry for that. Hopefull this will make it up to you. There is a bit of Jace/demon action a-happening and while I know it's going to be a bit of a filler, the next chapter with be fantabulous!...I hope. I haven't actually written it yet...*whistles awkwardly* _

_Anyways - ENJOY!_

**DISCLAIMER: The Mortal Instruments Series belongs to miss Cassandra Clare, as does the description of the demon. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

'You know,' I said slowly as Clary and I left Taki's, 'You never actually told me what you protect people from.'

Clary looked up at me, surprise plain on her face. 'Oh. Right.' She stopped for a moment, a small frown worrying her forehead. 'So, they didn't tell you anything?'

Who's they? I wanted to ask, although I had a pretty good guess. 'By 'they', I presume you mean the Lightwoods. As for whether or not they told me anything, that is based upon circumstances. You would be surprised how many things they have told me.'  
>Pitching my voice a couple of octaves higher in a mock impersonation of my collective family, I said, '<em> Jace, don't be a smart-arse, it makes people hate you. Jace, if you break my door I'll break your face. Jace, lighting your fart on fire at the table is rude<em>.'

Clary stared at me for a moment, disbelief crowding her features.

'You lit your _fart _on fire? At the _dinner table_?' She couldn't believe it, obviously. I grinned at her.

'Yep,' I said, popping the 'P'.

'But, why?' She began to walk again. 'I mean, I happen to think that it is kind of hilarious, but why would you do that? Didn't your mum kill you? And didn't it hurt?'

Grinning, I replied, 'To answer your first question, I did it because ALec dared me to. I had no choice. Second, obviously Maryse did not kill me as I am standing right here, next to you. As to if it hurt...Well let's just say, next time I won't pull my pants down.'

Clary snorted, 'I take that as a yes?'

I shifted uncomfortably at the memory. 'I couldn't sit down for a week.'

Clary gave a short laugh, broken off at the end, and I knew she was thinking of her mother again. Not wanting to see her look so sad, I did a very un-Jace like thing and quickly distracted her.

'So, are you going to tell me?'

Clary snapped back to attention, her eyes focusing on me again. 'What? Oh, right.' She looked around, and whistled sharply. Seconds later, a yellow cab pulled up. We piled inside and Clary told the driver where to go.

I wondered why she wanted to go to Central Park.

O.o

'Before I tell you anything, can you answer one question?' Clary asked me. We were sitting side by side under the gazebo at Turtle Pond. The wind had turned bitter, leaving us both sitting close together, our shoulders pressed against one another.

'Yes. Now, who do you protect?'

I wasn't looking at her but I could _feel_ her rolling her eyes.

'You're an ass, you know that?'

'Yes. I do know that. Was that your question?'

Clary punched me in the shoulder, sighing irritably but when I looked at her, I saw that the corners of her mouth were curved slightly upwards. God, I wish she wouldn't do that around me, it did crazy things to me.

'No. My question is..' here, she faltered and her eyes fell on my arms, sheathed in the long sleeved shirt I always wore. 'How old were you, when your father gave you your Marks?'

I opened my mouth, prepared to answer, when I stopped and frowned. I thought back to when I might have recieved the Marks, tried to remember the sting I knew I should have experienced but all that surfaced in my mind was a blank fuzziness. There was nothing there, like a chunk of my mind, of my memory was completely cut off from me. I closed my eyes, tried to focus on the blank spot, attempted to push through the the wall that seemed to be built up around my memories, but I couldm't push through it. Why couldn't I remember?

Realising that Clary was waiting for an answer I opened my eyes, still fowning. 'I don't know.' The words fell heavy in my gut, a feeling of wrongness settled over me. Why didn't I know? I only lived with my dad until I was ten, you would think that getting a bunch of tattoos inked all over my body would be something that stuck in my memory.

'I don't remember.'

Beside me, Clary frowned in confusion. 'How can you not remember?' She asked, confusion thick in her tone, and disbelief.

'I don't know!' I burst out, frustrated. I pressed my hands aganst my eyes, so hard colours burst and popped behind my closed eyelids. An anger that scared me rose up in my chest and I leapt to my feet, swinging out suddenly with my fist. It connects with one of the support struts of the gazebo. A loud clanging fills the air, along with the sound of splintering wood.

The anger is still surging within me and I draw my elbow back again, about to release my fury out on the gazebo again, when a small touch of warmth heats my shoulder. The warmth spreads down my arm to close around my fist and through the haze of red, I see Clary, my clenched fist in her small hand, looking up at me with wide green eyes.

'Jace,' she whispered, 'Don't do that.'

Slowly, she unfurled my fingers so that they lay splayed across her palm. She lightly ran a finger across my knuckles. I had hit the support strut so hard that the skin was broken and speckled with blood. As my anger drained away, my hand began to ache. It was familiar feeling.

'Clary,' I began, but broke off. I didn't like the way my voice sounded. She didn't look up from my hand, the bright red curls that had escaped from their bonds when they had been sparring forming a curtain around her face. I couldn't help but think how beautiful she looked.

'We protect people, Jace,' she said suddenly, quietly, her head still bent over my hand. 'Humans, Downworlders, everyone.'

'What from?'

She looked up at me then, and the expression on her face was one I had never seen before. Her mouth was set in firm hard line, her eyes dark and serious.

'We protect them from d - '

Just then, my obnoxious ringtone split the still air. Clary and I started, confused for a moment. I wanted to ignore it and hear whatever it was that Clary had to say.

'Answer it,' she said quietly, dropping my hand. 'It could be important.'

Hesitating only a moment, I slipped my hand into my pocket and drew the phone out. 'It's the same as mine!' I heard Clary murmur as I flipped it open and pressed into against my ear.

'Hello?'

'Jace!' Alec's frantic tone shouted in my ear.'Where the hell are you?'

I rolled my eyes. 'Central Park, not that it's any of your business.

'Get home. Now.' Alec tone was frantic, but firm and something like dread filled my stomach.

'What's going on Alec?'

'It's Izzy. I can't - I can't explain just now. Get home, Jace. Please.'

And he hung up.

What's happened to Izzy? For a few stunned moments, all I could do was stare at the phone in my hands, my mind whirling.

'Jace!' An impatient voice cut through my train of thought and I snapped to attention. Clary was staring up at me, her green eyes wide with worry and imaotience.

'What's going on?'

'I have to go,' I said, tearing away from Clary and out of Central Park.

O.o

I didn't stop running until I reached my home. Leaping over the front gate, I burst through the door and the first thing that hits me is the hideous stench. Like rotting garbage and dead anmals had just been dumped somewhere inside my house.

Two weeks ago.

The second thing that I notice is the complete and utter silence. This house is never silent. Ever.

Warning bells start ringing inside my head. Something is wrong, very, very wrong. Starting down the hall with decidedly more caution, I resisted the urge to call through the house. It was when I rounded the corner towards the lounge-room that I heard it - a regular thump, thumping, followed by a dull, drawn out side, like something was being dragged across the wooden floor boards.

The noise was loud in the eafening silence and I tensed as it came closer, closer, closer. I didn't know who it was, or where my family was and all I could think of was Alec on the phone, sounding frantic and afraid.

As the noises reached the second entry way to the lounge-room, I relised I didnt even have a weapon. Whipping my head around, I jumped silently over the coffee table and grabbed the only thing handy. A a thin lamp with a tacky lamp-shade. I think Max made it for Maryse.

Plucking the lamshade off the lamp itself, I tucked it underneath the couch for safety. No point having Maxy cry.

_Thump thump draaaaaag_

The sounds were right at the entrance to the lounge-room and the rotting stench grew even more intense.

Then, the thing rounded the corner and I nearly threw-up.

It was a long and scaled creature with a bunch of flat black eyes set dead center in the fron of its domed skull. It looked lik a cross between an alligator and a centipede, it had a thick, flat snout and a barbed tail that whipped menacingly from side to side. Multiple legs were bunched together beneath it as it readied itself to spring. It was making strange, ugly gurling noisees in the back of its throat and through his disgust and shock, Jace realised that the noise were in fact words.

'_Pretty boy. Golden boy. To eat. Yes, yes to eat_.'

I had grown up in a world of were-wolves and vampires, Faeries and witches but never, _never_, had I seen a thing so vile and...unnatural.

'I don't think so, Ugly,' I said before spirnging forward, the lamp swinging in my hand. The thing spran at the same time and we met head on, its flat snout snapping at my face, flecks of greenish drool speckling my skin. It burned but I ignored it, swinging the lamp and smashing the bulb against the creature's head. It shattered against the things head, bits of glass sticking in the side of its head. It scuttled away from me in shock, hissing furiously.

I leapt at it, my arms wrapping around what I supposed would be its neck. The barbed tail swung, just missing my back and it hissed again, thrashing beneath me.

_Nice one, Lightwood_, I thought grimly to myself. _Now what are you going to do?_

The creature continued to buck and threash beneath me, hissing all the while. Thining quickly, I manouvered myself around so that I was sitting on its tail, holding it pinned in place and wrenching its head back until it was almost horizontal. The thing's jaw gaped open, rows and rows of sharp teeth exposed and the greenish drool dropped from its mouth, pooling on my arms and burning the flesh.

With a shout, I wrench its head down even further until I heard the snapping of bones and its head lolled suddenly lifeless in my hands. I let go of it in disgust, expecting the head to thump harmlessly on the ground,

Instead, the thing's body seemed to fold in on itself, disappearing completely within a matter of seconds, leaving only scorch mark on the floorboards and the burns on my arms for proof that it had ever even existed.

I could only stare at the place the creature had been, my mind unable to comprehend how something like that could have existed.

It was as the pain in my arms slowly broke through the rush of adrenalin that became aware of someone's gaze set firmly on my back. I turned around slowly, warily, my body still tensed for a fight.

It instantly relaxed when I saw Clary's wide green eyes staring at me, her moluth slightly agape and Alec, just behind her, his expression mirroring hers.

'Alright Alec,' I said, 'Explain that.'

* * *

><p><em>So, what'd you guys think? Anyone who reviews will get a teaser for the next chapter (yes, I have resorted to bribery, sue me) AND my undying love. But in a friend way, you know? Purely platonic, nothing awkward or weird, because I am not so desperate that I need to tell people I have never and probably will never meet that i love them via the internet...no no no, not me! :P<em>

_Enough rambling!_

_Blue._


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